


Someone Else's Debts

by Elexica



Series: StripperKaiba!AU [3]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: AU-gust 2020, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Sex Work, This is NOT a Pretty Woman AU, bonding over shit circumstances, ygocollablove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elexica/pseuds/Elexica
Summary: Gangster Joey needs some help, and reaches out to his favorite stripper in his time of need. Along the way, he learns more about Kaiba’s life than he ever expected to know.. . .A continuation of Strip That Down for Me and But Only You Can Dance for Me, but with a darker tone.  It’s the third in the series, but all you really have to know is that Kaiba is an incompetent stripper, and Joey is his only fan and is a gangster who spends a lot of time at the club anyway.
Relationships: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Kaiba Seto
Series: StripperKaiba!AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964584
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	Someone Else's Debts

**Author's Note:**

> TW: allusions to sex for money. It’s not shown or described in detail, but it’s in the story. It is not idealized or condemned, just something that happens.
> 
> I'm counting this as another AU - this is for the "Any Two Prompts" and the two are college and crime, because Joey is a gangster and Kaiba's in college.

Working on a feeling

Breaking down the ceiling

Digging up a deep end

Freezing on the beaches

Reaching for the sweetest, sweetest peaches

\- “Peaches” by In the Valley Below

. . .

“How did you find this address?” Kaiba hissed through the crack in the door. He hadn’t released the chain from the door, and the deadbolt below it hadn’t been dropped either. 

“Pharaoh had me drop off a check at the front counter for ya once. The motel lady ain’t the tightest security.”

The paint on the door was significantly chipped. The pale blue outermost layer of paint was scratched off near the deadbolt, revealing eras of forest green and pale brown. The edge of the door was clearly the victim of a savage attack with a crowbar. From the three-inches that Joey could peer into the crappy motel room, it was clear that the inside had seen better days too. Joey had always expected that the dancer’s area would be meticulous and organized, with all that intensity and determination in his eyes. But perhaps it wasn’t the case. Joey could spot a large stack of school textbooks if he angled his head just right. One spine read “Conceptual Physics.”

“And why are you here now?” Kaiba whispered. It was almost as if someone else was sleeping inside. _Did his favorite dancer have an actual lover_ , Joey wondered. Lot’s of other dancers at Millennium had partners. It wouldn’t be unusual. But a pang of possessiveness struck at Joey’s stomach, hurting like blow from a fight.

“Well, it’s not because I’m creepy,” Joey had thought about how he was going to answer the inevitable question the whole drive over. He hadn’t really come up with anything better than the truth. “I’ll be real with you. I don’t know where else ta go. I’m uhh… Kinda fucked. And Pharaoh says yer the smartest fella he knows who ain’t ass-deep in…” Joey gestured broadly at everything.

Kaiba instantly closed the door, slamming it sharply in Joey’s face. Almost catching his eyebrows in the door.

Rain skidded off of the awning. Joey stood, dumbstruck, for a few minutes. And then, he knocked again.

“Go away!” Kaiba shouted through the door.

And Joey knocked again.

And again.

And again.

The walls were so thin, the door so useless, that Joey could hear the shower finally being turned on. Kaiba would have to open the door at some point that night—his shift started at ten. At the absolute worst, Joey would only have to wait two more hours to accost the taller man somewhere between the motel door and the crappy, fifteen-year-old maroon Volvo he recognized from the club’s parking lot.

He knocked again.

This time some child opened the door, chain still in the deadbolt. The boy, with wild black hair and doe-eyes stared back at him. Joey really didn’t know how he was going to answer some kid’s questions.

“What do you want from my brother?” The kid asked with an angry pout.

Joey got up from where he had decided to sit down to answer the question.

“I need his help, I guess. He’s my friend.”

The child looked tremendously skeptical.

“So you’ve never met him, huh?”

Joey looked away, “No, no he knows me. We just don’t eh… talk much. What’s yer name?”

The boy looked skeptically over Joey, appraising everything from his leather jacket to his scuffed white sneakers. “… Mokuba.”

“Look, I’m not gonna leave—got no where else ta go. And I don’t mean you, or yer brother, any harm.”

The boy seemed to be weighing his options.

“Hey, if I was actually a danger, don’t you think yer bro woulda kicked my ass, on-site, minute one? He ain’t a live-and-let-live kinda guy. He’ll come around.”

Mokuba furrowed his brow thoughtfully. “Are you _sure_ you know my brother?”

Joey couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, he’s the best dancer I’ve ever seen.”

There were a few docile clicks, and the slide of a deadbolt returning to its cavern.

Mokuba opened the door. “Now I know you’re lying. And not even trying to hide it. At least if you really don’t know my brother, you’re probably not a threat.”

Joey smiled a lopsided smile and wandered in. He tried not to think too hard about the implications of that statement—and Kaiba made that a lot easier when he wandered out of the bathroom, shirtless and in navy sweatpants that had seen better days.

Mokuba looked expectantly at his brother, as if he was waiting to get in trouble or witness a fight.

As Kaiba rustled his damp hair with a threadbare motel towel, Mokuba asked his brother “Wait, you actually know this guy?”

“He’s a customer from work.” Kaiba’s deadpan was steadfast.

Mokuba eyed the leather-jacket clad bad boy.

“From the ice cream shop?” Mokuba raised one eyebrow and tilted his head, as if he was trying to imagine how that might be possible.

“Yes.”

“Huh.” Mokuba eyed him skeptically. “I’m not allowed to visit you at work because it’s not healthy to eat all that ice cream…”

“Well, he also works there sometimes. He is friends with the owner and conducts some of his own sales.” Kaiba folded the sad excuse for a towel and grabbed a thick college textbook, skimming the

“A-ight.” Mokuba said, looking back at Joey. When the textbook was open, the conversation was shut, apparently.

. . .

When the clock hit 9:30 pm, Joey was unsurprised to see Kaiba dive for a familiar duffel bag. Joey had once seen it in the dressing room. “I’m going to work,” Kaiba announced. “You can stay here if Mokuba lets you.”

Mokuba nodded.

Joey couldn’t help but look a little sheepish at the offer. Sure, it was what he had asked for, but he hadn’t expected to get it.

“Look, you’ve paid your fair share in ice cream cones to make a night’s rent. One night.”

Joey nodded, and watched as Kaiba stalked out the door.

“So… you really think your brother works at an ice cream shop?”

Mokuba propped his head on his laced fingers. “I don’t like what you’re implying. But yes.”

Joey’s tone was more lecherous than he would have liked it to be when he interrogated further. 

“An ice cream shop that is only open at night?”

Mokuba shrugged his shoulders. “Big bro says they’re cornering a niche market.”

“And he comes home sweaty and covered in glitter?”

Mokuba’s tone remained smugly superior. “It’s an ice cream shop, it’s supposed to be fun. Plus, have you ever scooped really cold ice cream. It’s tough. That’s why bro works out so much too. So he can be the best ice cream scooper there.” It was as if Joey couldn’t understand the nuanced business model.

“Alllllllright,” Joey stretched out on the crusty covers of the Queen bed nearest the door. “Ya know a’ any liquor stores nearby? I figure I should get yer bro a housewarming somethin’.”

. . .

Kaiba’s shift should have ended at 2 am. Joey knew it like he knew his own schedule. He’d walked Kaiba out to his car a few times when other patrons had been _insistent_.

Mokuba sent himself to bed around 1 am, and the silence was killing Joey. He felt like an army wife, staring out the window, waiting for his husband to come home. Watching the hard rain trickle down the open motel hallway, drip down the metal handrail.

Joey wondered if he was supposed to sleep in Kaiba’s bed. The unspoken offer had lined his previous statements, but Joey couldn’t really fathom doing it. The bed wasn’t all that inviting as it stood—crinkly covers and questionable linen sheets. He briefly imagined waking up with Kaiba next to him, freshly showered and angelic in his sleep.

Heh. Kaiba probably scowled even when he was supposed to be dreaming.

Joey realized that he had fallen asleep when the sound of the shower running again jarred him. His cheek had been pressed up against the glass. It was numb and cold from the uncomfortable position. Joey’s eyes dropped to his phone—charged up and resting in his lap. It was almost four am. The rain had stopped.

“You’re awake?” Kaiba asked, sounding more curious than upset. He whispered, so as to not wake his brother. It was a dumber question than Joey was expecting.

“Yeah, well I’ve got this six-pack,” Joey raised the rack of beer from where it had been waiting, near his feet. “And since I’ve only got one night here, we might as well drink it now.”

. . .

“You, uh, go somewhere after the club?” Joey asked, nursing the beer and laying against the trunk of the car. The butt of his pants were wet from sitting on the rain-soaked pavement. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was better than trying to keep his head up after the long ass day.

The air smelled like exhaust.

“I do what I must do. I make ends meet, and I am never short on rent.” Kaiba’s voice was proud, but his head was tilted down. His eyes were indecipherable, darkened by the shadows from his overgrown bangs. “You ask too many questions. I never ask you any.”

Joey tried to smile. He was pretty good about it, and it got him out of a few jams. There were times when he couldn’t smile, but those were harsher than even today had been.

“Yer little bro doesn’t know, does he?” Joey asked again, before taking another swig of his beer. It was too warm—from the heat of his hand—and it tasted like piss anyway. 

Kaiba’s thumb traced over the lip of his own beer bottle. “Why should he? I got us out, all the way out.” Kaiba took his turn, the amber liquid flowing though his throat. “He’s never missed a day of school.”

Joey laughed, raising his brown bottle for a toast. “Be he loves that!”

Kaiba smirked, tapping Joey’s bottle with his own, a slightly sad cheers. “He does not.”

They drank in silence for a little while. A chilly breeze stirred up some leaves, wiped away some of the engine exhaust smell from where they were sitting, lurking behind the Volvo for something like privacy.

“So… there are johns, I guess?”

Kaiba laughed, but it wasn’t friendly. “You really ask too many questions. You show up at my house, nowhere else to go, and I don’t ask you any questions.”

Joey’s face was too warm. Warm from the beer, warm from how close Kaiba was sitting. God, he’d seen the man almost naked every Friday night for _months_ , but he had never _felt_ this close. This much like the object of his affections was a real person. A real man, who was going to college, and taking care of his brother, and doing whatever it took to survive. Joey wondered if their relationship was the same as those faceless johns.

Did Kaiba see him as just another person who paid Kaiba for his body? Was he wrong?

“I’d tell ya,” Joey volunteered to break the silence. “It’s not my fault.”

Kaiba took a slow swig, tilting the bottle all the way up so that the very last drops made their way down his throat. Once he was finished, he launched the bottle with all the strength he had, and it shattered against the dumpster on the opposite end of the parking lot.

“I never asked,” Kaiba said, popping the next bottle cap on the exhaust pipe of the Volvo.

“It’s not my debts or anything. They’re after me for—”

“You owe someone else’s debts.” Kaiba said, gazing a thousand yards into the distance. 

Joey nodded, then finished off his own drink.

“We all do.”

**Author's Note:**

> /Meryl Streep voice: A Duel Monsters Club AU where the club is called “Millennium?” How original.  
> I’d love to continue this sometime when the inspiration strikes.


End file.
